Feral
by Tahiri Solo
Summary: Mara reflects . . .


Feral  
By Tahiri Solo  
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Disclaimer: All the characters, places, and such mentioned in this story are the property of Lucasfilm. I own nothing and am in no way making any money off of this story. Also, if this story bears any resemblance to stories written by others, that is purely coincidental. No infringement is intended.  
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A/N: This is my first fic about Mara, and so if it's OOC or something, I'm sorry. I know she has some very fanatical fans (I know, because I am one), and I don't want any of them coming after me for not capturing her personality! LOL! Bear in mind, this is my first fic about her, so please don't be too harsh. At least I didn't give her a "fatal disease"!!!   
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If there is one thing I hate, it is peacefulness. I'm between jobs right now. Karrde doesn't have any assignments for me, and in the meantime, I have nothing to do with myself. I'm bored, I and can't stand it. I feel useless, and being bored gives me too much time to think.  
  
Well, I suppose if I was that desperate for something to do, I could always go to Skywalker's Jedi academy for a while.  
  
Ha. Like I'm going to do that. The very last thing I need right now is to listen to poor, well-meaning Skywalker tell me about why I should be a Jedi.  
  
I don't think I'm meant to be a Jedi, but Luke doesn't seem to agree with me on that. We never agree on anything, for that matter.  
  
See, there I go again. When I have nothing to do, I start thinking. And when I start thinking, my thoughts take me places I really do not want to go. There are very few things in this galaxy that can frighten me, but my own thoughts are one of them.  
  
That's one of the reasons I fight with Skywalker so often. He makes me think. And I hate him for that.   
  
He keeps telling me I'm meant to be a Jedi. I am not. I was raised and trained to be one thing, and one thing only.  
  
The Emperor's Hand.  
  
Only now the Emperor is dead, and his Empire in fragments.   
  
I hated Skywalker for a long time after that. Hated him for killing the Emperor, for single-handedly destroying my entire life. My life became a constant litany of daydreams about his death. I dreamed about killing him, all the pain I could cause him, to echo the pain he gave me, both at night and during the day.   
  
It was all I had left.  
  
But then I found that I couldn't kill him. I made it perfectly clear that I despised him and wished him dead, but yet he still accepted me. Accepted me like no one else had ever done.  
  
It nearly drove me insane.   
  
I wanted to kill him more than anything else in the galaxy, and yet he still accepted me. He never acted like he was afraid of me, despite my insistence that I was going to kill him. But actually, his unconditional acceptance of me was probably the best defense he could have had. It rendered me basically unable to harm him, although my mind screamed at me that it was what I had to do.  
  
Even though I didn't kill him, Skywalker still infuriates me. He means well, insisting that I should be a Jedi, but he doesn't seem to understand that my entire purpose for living was to be the Emperor's Hand. I was raised for it, trained for it, and I lived for it.   
  
I was raised to be the Emperor's creature.  
  
Sometimes I wonder if I am even human. My life was so single-mindedly driven towards the Empire and my master that I never knew who I really was. I was more a creature than a human, reared to be the tool of the Emperor, and nothing else. I never really learned how to be me, just to be whatever the Emperor wanted.   
  
So here I am, an adult, independent woman, and I have no idea who I am. Of course, Skywalker would argue heatedly with me if he sensed my thoughts. He would say that I was far too independent and intelligent to be any sort of "creature".  
  
Yes, I'm independent, and yes, I am intelligent. But both of those traits came from my training with the Empire. The Emperor wanted me to be independent and intelligent enough to handle unexpected situations that might arise, yet obedient enough to follow any and all orders.   
  
I am like a wild, feral animal, intelligent and cunning, beautiful, and in some people's eyes a masterpiece, but in truth it's only feral instinct. I have no desires or thoughts of my own. The Empire was my life, and when it was destroyed, my life became hating Skywalker and attempting to kill him. But then I got to know him, and to my eternal horror, became, of all things, his friend.   
  
So with that gone, my life is essentially nothing. I have no real purpose for being here. Damn Skywalker for being so Sithspawned nice to me. Life was much easier when I wanted to kill him. At least then I had a purpose.  
  
Well, I have no purpose, but at least now I have a friend.  
  
Wait a minute. Now where did that come from? Either someone slipped me some spice when I wasn't looking or else that infuriating man means more to me than I'd realized.  
  
Yeah, right. I'm going to go ask Karrde and see if he knows who slipped me drugs.   
  
If I find out he somehow was somewhat responsible for that, my new purpose in life will be attempting to kill him instead.  
  
The Empire took away everything I ever was, but it won't take away everything I ever could be. Maybe Skywalker's rubbing off on me, or maybe it's the effects of the spice someone obviously slipped me, but even if I have no purpose in life, I'll find one, someday, somehow.  
  
That is my prey, and I am hunting it down.  
  
And feral creatures always get their kill.   
  



End file.
